Social media is such a joy around the new year, isn’t it? Sure, we get the flood of ads for cleanses, detoxes, and fitness hula hoops. There are articles about making resolutions we can stick to and friends’ announcements of their word or quote for the coming year. New year, new you. Become your best self in 2023.

But what really gets me is friends listing out their annual accomplishments and life events. In 2022, books were published, dream jobs attained, cross country moves made, fancy vacations taken, children conceived, engagements and weddings celebrated.

It’s not that I’m not happy for people, but this naturally leads to me taking stock of my own life. As it turns out, 2022 was one of the most uneventful years ever (I started a skincare routine… I got new glasses… I don’t know what else to tell you). I could feel inadequate or uninspired, but I’m not actually upset. In today’s world, breaking even seems like a huge win. That is why I invite you to raise your cold cup of coffee and join me in toasting to once again accomplishing basically nothing in the coming year.

*taps butter knife against plastic kids’ cup*

Ahem.

Here’s to feeding our families. May the exact brand of frozen dino nuggets our kids eat always be in stock. May we always have milk and butter on hand when we crave mac & cheese. May our children occasionally glance in the direction of the fruit or vegetable we have had the audacity to place on their plates.

Here’s to chasing reasonable levels of dopamine and serotonin. May we occasionally feel motivated to exercise. May our friends respond to our texts in a timely manner (and vice versa). May we remember to take our meds. May our TikTok FYPs continue to show exclusively cat/dog content.

Here’s to employment. May we keep the same jobs we’ve had forever and continue to give it our all at least (insert desired percentage here) of the time. Or may we get new jobs that we briefly attempt to throw ourselves into completely before also giving them our all at just some of the time.

Here’s to being decent humans. May we hold doors open for strangers still a few steps away and half-smile at coworkers we pass in the hallway at work. May we let people merge in front of us in traffic and count “one Mississippi, two Mississippi” before we beep when the light changes green. May we make and cancel several blood donation appointments with the best of intentions.

Here’s to our comfort. May our elastic waistbands hold up, our underwear not shrink, and our underwire sit perfectly. May our pajamas be fluffy and our work clothes be tolerable.

Here’s to our leisure. May we do things we like that benefit us very little and others not at all. May we read a few good books and start but probably not finish several craft projects. May we have the opportunity to binge on murder podcasts/TV shows.

Here’s to a future time when we feel better rested and more motivated to make big changes in ourselves and the world. May we remember that small acts can make a huge difference and that middle age will not stop us from being incredible people and doing amazing things.

Please join me in raising a glass to 2023, the year when I aspire to, once again, simply exist. And that’s just fine by me.